


All Work and No Play

by Saoirse_Laochra



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfam Week 2018, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Language, Prompt: Vacation or Separation, bfw2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-18 04:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15477609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saoirse_Laochra/pseuds/Saoirse_Laochra
Summary: The Bat kids go on a much-needed vacation after putting in the overtime on a particularly grueling case, putting aside the costumes and vigilantism for a week as Bruce Wayne’s adopted sons, and their friend.It wassupposedto be relaxing; it wassupposedto be fun.Day One of BatFam Week 2018,Vacationor Separation





	1. Chapter 1

“This is _stupid_. Why are we doin’ this?”

Tim cracked open one eye, glancing over at Jason, who was sitting across from him, legs stretched out on the couch, arms folded across his chest, a petulant frown on his face.

“Because we all put in a lot of hours on the Falcone case, and we deserve a break,” He said, closing his eyes again, and relaxing back into his seat.

“Because we’ve all been putting in eighteen to twenty hour work days for the past month and a half?” Barbara volunteered from where she sat in a large chair across from Dick, not looking up from her cards.

“Because we’re awesome?” Dick threw in, grinning as he threw down a pair of kings.

“And we couldn’t do this in Gotham, because…?”

“Because none of you know the meaning of the word ‘break’, ‘vacation’, or ‘relaxing’,” Dick said, a frown replacing the grin as Barbara threw down a pair of aces triumphantly.

“Oh, right, like you do,” Tim snorted, resigning himself to being awake, and sitting up. “Wait; I take that back. Lazy Wing _definitely_ knows the meaning of relaxation.”

Barbara snickered, and Dick flashed him another smile, but Jason rolled his eyes.

“This is _pointless_. We’re gonna kill each other. The four of us, in one cabin in the woods? No electronics, no crime, no people? We’re gonna be bored out of our minds, Dick is gonna start one of his stupid prank wars, and we’re gonna end up killing each other,” He declared grimly, cracking his knuckles loudly.

“Firstly, we’re going to a private cabin in the Adirondacks; You make it sound like we’re going to be in the middle of nowhere without electricity. Secondly, maybe you should just tell Alfred ‘no’ next time then,” Tim said glibly, laughing out loud as Jason’s frown deepened. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look, we’re already half-way there, Jason; you could at least try to enjoy yourself.”

“You say that _now_ , Replacement. Just wait until we get there, and it sinks in that you _willingly_ agreed to a week with no computers, no Wi-Fi, no energy drinks, and no smart phones.”

“Why don’t you play cards with us?” Barbara offered cheerfully, grabbing a handful of candy off the table. “More people might make Dick feel better about getting his ass kicked.”

“Hey! You’re only winning because you’re cheating!”

“I’m not ‘cheating’!”

“Counting cards is considered ‘cheating’,” Jason retorted, burrowing further into his seat. “And having an eidetic memory gives you a seriously unfair advantage. No thanks.”

“Oh, c’mon, Little Wing; you… _chicken_?”

“Shut up, Dick-weed. That ain’t gonna work. I’m not fourteen anymore.”

“Oooo, somebody’s scared! Can’t stand getting beat by a girl,” Dick sing-song’ed.

“Knock it off, man! What are you, ten?!”

Tim rolled his eyes, pulling out his noise-reducing headsets, as he settled back into his chair. Hopefully both his brothers had enough common sense to avoid getting into a fistfight on the plane…

But he buckled his seatbelt just in case.

 

* * *

 

Jason frowned, his nose wrinkling as he shut the four-wheeler off, unlatching his helmet and hanging it on the handle bars as he hopped off, before turning to help Barbara do the same.

“Smells funny,” He growled, stalking to Dick’s four-wheeler, and unhooking Barbara’s folded up chair.

“That’s the great outdoors, Little Wing!” Dick said gleefully, doing a backflip in the open glade. “I know, it’s scary, but I’ll protect you from the racoons, little brother, don’t worry.”

“Dude. Shut. _Up_. When was the last time you were actually in the woods? Do you even know what a raccoon friggin’ looks like?” Jason retorted, helping Barbara into her chair. “You sure you got this, Babs?”

She smiled, reaching up to pat his face. “Don’t you worry, Jaybird. What I lack in leg muscles, I make up for in arm muscles,” She declared, giving herself a solid shove to get herself moving towards the cabin.

Despite his general uncomfortableness, Jason had to admit it _was_ picturesque; the cabin sat in a fairly large clearing, surrounded by large trees, like something out of a painting. He was one hundred percent positive that, if he asked, Barbara or Tim could fill him in on what type of trees they were, and what style of cabin it was, but all he knew was it was freaking green. Enough freaking green to hurt his eyes, and what wasn’t green was brown. And like he’d noticed as soon as he’d taken his helmet off… it freaking smelled. Like dirt, and that stupid cleaner Alfred used around the manor that made his nose itch.

But it _was_ pretty, for all that.

“Bring your sketch pads, Little Wing?”

Jason turned, growling. “I told you not to call me that, Dick-Face. I’ve got three inches and at _least_ thirty pounds on you.”

Dick scoffed as he flopped down on the grass, putting his arms behind his head and staring up at the sky. “See, this just proves you know nothing about being a brother, Jason; no matter how big you get, no matter how old you get, you’ll _always_ be my _little_ brother.”

“And you’ll always be a moron,” Jason snapped, grabbing his and Barbara’s backpacks out of the storage bin on the back of the four-wheeler, and swinging them up, one over each shoulder, and moving towards the house, putting Dick out of his mind as he started mentally debating whether charcoals or pencils would capture the trees against the skyline better.

 

* * *

 

It was around six thirty by the time they’d all settled in and unpacked, finished arguing about who got what rooms -with Barbara taking the downstairs master bedroom, and Jason winning rights to the upstairs master bedroom, leaving Tim and Dick to take the two smaller rooms -and started making dinner. Which, of course, had sparked _another_ argument between Jason and Dick, with Dick insisting on tacos, and Jason swearing and cussing that since he was cooking, they’d eat what he wanted, and he wanted goulash.

So a few bruises later (mostly unintentional -the floor was hardwood, and their wrestling match had gotten a bit out of hand) saw Dick sitting at the table, a pack of frozen corn against his eye, and Jason grumbling as he stalked around the kitchen.

Barbara had pulled herself onto the couch, and was watching her two oldest brothers with a soft smile over the top of her Kindle. Tim had disappeared shortly before the ‘what’s-for-dinner’ wrestling match had started, darting outside with his camera, giving Barb an eyeroll on his way out the door.

She had to admit, she’d had her reservations about going on vacation, her and all three of the boys. Dick and Jason tolerated each other at the best of times, snipping and snapping at each other constantly at the worst, with poor Tim stuck in the middle trying to keep the peace, and focus them both on whatever mission was at hand. But so far, they’d been relatively decent to each other, keeping their fights at a _slightly-more-than-playful_ level, and mostly reserved their sharpest blows for their verbal sparring.

Although, as her dad always said, she wasn’t counting her chickens before they hatched; it was only twelve hours into their one week vacation; plenty of time for things to devolve into a full-scale war.

But she’d elicited promises from both boys that they would at least _try_ to be on their best behavior, which was really all she could ask.

Jason, for all of his rough edges, truly was trying, she thought with a small smile, watching him stalk around the kitchen, grumbling to himself as he went, keeping his insults and complaints directed at -for the most part -the food he was making, rather than his older brother.

Dick, on the other hand, didn’t seem to understand how… _trying_ … his constant jabbering and joking could be, as he babbled on about anything and nothing, from the latest socialite gossip to whatever new movie was playing. While she knew he didn’t actively care about either topic, it was _something_ to talk about, and Dick had never dealt well with silence, talking simply to fill the space. And with Jason -who tended to have an awkward effect on the silence to begin with -Dick seemed intent on filling it as quickly as possible, with as many words as possible.

Sighing quietly, she scooted herself into her wheelchair, and made her way into the ‘kitchen’ (really, it was all one big open room), giving Dick a smile where he sat at the island counter.

“You want to go find Tim?” She asked him, motioning towards the food. “That should be done soon, and I'm sure he's hungry.”

“Yeah, sure. Don’t start with out me,” He said cheerfully, before darting outside.

As soon as the large glass doors closed behind him, Jason let out a deep breath, closing his eyes as he leaned on the counter with both hands, and Barbara could see a bit of the tension leave his shoulders, before he gave her a small, grateful smile.

“Thanks,” He mumbled, not meeting her eyes as he grabbed a can of sauce, and  poured it into the simmering meat and vegetables.

“You know he doesn’t do it on purpose,” She supplied, grabbing a spoon, and reaching towards the pot.

“Don’t you dare!” Jason said quickly, turning towards her sharply. “And I know he doesn’t; that’s what makes it so annoying. He really is just that freakin’… giddy. Happy. _Content_.” He spat out the last word almost like a curse, and Barbara laughed softly.

“Only you would consider that to be a bad thing, Jason. But I appreciate you trying. We _all_ do. I know how hard this last year has been, and how hard you’re trying; the fact that you’re even here means a lot to all of us.”

He shrugged uncomfortably, turning back towards his food, as he muttered, “Yeah… Whatever. Go ahead and sit down, food’s ready. I’ll bring it out in a minute.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dick was asleep, curled up under the warm blankets, when something – almost like a second sense -tickled at the back of his mind, whispering in his ear until he dragged himself awake…

Just in time to see the man standing over him with a syringe going for his neck.

Instantly coming awake, he lashed out with one barefoot, shoving himself off the edge of the bed with the other, rolling to his feet with an acrobat’s practiced grace as he yelled, spotting the other three men standing around the bed with an assortment of weapons trained on him.

“Jason! Tim!”

As the world came into full focus, he could hear the sounds of fighting from the room next to him, confident that at least Jason had woken in time, and he didn’t have time to worry about Tim or Barbara right then, as two of the men let their automatic rifles fall to their sides, and pulled out shock batons.

 _Damn_. Well, at least they weren’t there to kill them. That was something, he supposed.

He knew there was no hope; in the small bedroom, he didn’t have any room to maneuver around -his big advantage -and the shock batons gave them an additional three foot of range. They were wearing tactical body armor, while he was clad only in a pair of pajama pants.

But he put up a good fight, anyways, and as electricity coursed through his body, he at least had the satisfaction of knowing that one of the assholes would never walk right again from the blow to his knees, and the other was going to have a hell of a concussion whenever he woke up.

Small victories.

 

* * *

 

Tim came too, his head pounding as he tried to sit up, only to startle when he realized that his hands had been zip-tied at the wrist and the elbow, and duct taped at the elbows, knees and thighs. Slowly opening his eyes, he realized he was in a sitting position, somewhat slumped against the wall, and a quick glance around told him his brothers were in similar situations, with Barb tied to her chair a few feet away from them.

There were seventeen men in the room with them, and four of those were nursing serious injuries, while at least a dozen more were sporting bruises; he’d only gotten a few blows in before whatever drug they’d stuck him with had taken affect, but from the looks of Jason and Dick, neither one had went down without a hell of a fight; Dick’s forehead was covered in blood from a gash over his left eye, and Jason’s entire face was a mash of bruises, and there was blood leaking onto the floor from somewhere on his leg, although given the angle, Tim couldn’t quite see where or what the wound might be.

He went to speak, and became aware that duct tape also covered his lips, and he glowered as one of the men -seemingly noticing that he was awake -smiled at him.

“Ah, there’s one up. I imagine you’ll have an easier time of it than your adopted brothers, Mr. Drake; the sedative was meant to incapacitate you for ten to fifteen minutes, and leave you disoriented after. Just enough time to get you all under control, without permanent damage. Unfortunately, the other two forced us to use… _alternative_ methods. I must admit, I was a bit surprised by all of your fighting abilities; our intel said you’d all taken martial arts for self-defense, but I imagine each of you must be at black belts in at least one or two martial arts. I was very impressed; even Ms. Gordon put up a good fight, considering her handicap.”

“Screw you, asshole,” Barb spat, and she turned her head enough that Tim could see the large welt forming over one eye, enough for Tim’s vision to go red for a moment, before he collected himself.

Mr. Drake. Ms. Gordon. They were civilians here, and these men didn’t know that they’d just kidnapped Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, and Oracle. That was a point in the family’s favor at least, and hopefully the men would continue to underestimate them.

“Are you listening, Mr. Drake? I need you somewhat cognizant for this conversation, and I imagine your brothers will still be a bit… slightly disabled… for a while longer,” The leader asked, kneeling down and staring Tim in the eye.

Tim held his gaze, and nodded tightly.

“Good. As I’m sure you’ve probably guessed by now, this is your basic hostages for ransom.”

“Mr. Wayne doesn’t negotiate with terrorists,” Barbara interjected sharply. “He doesn’t need to. He’s probably already got half the private military contractors in America on their way here right now, and you’re down three men, with four more seriously hurt. If you want to walk away from this, you should probably just call it a wash and leave now.”

The man sighed, standing and moving back over towards Barbara, and Tim began struggling in his bindings, trying to find a weak point. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Jason tense against his own bonds for a moment; it was so quick though, he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just imagining it, since his middle brother looked like warmed over death.

“May I remind you, Ms. Gordon, that you have absolutely no financial value here? Your father might be a police commissioner, but his salary is nowhere near enough to pay any sort of ransom that men like myself, or my employer might be interested in. I suggest you keep those pretty lips closed unless directed otherwise, or else I’ll have to find another use for them.

“But to answer your question, we’re not sending our ransom demands to Mr. Wayne. We don’t need to. We have all three of his sons here; between their trust funds, and their level of access at Wayne Industries, these three boys can give us at least half a billion dollars without getting Mr. Wayne involved. And I’m sure they’ll all be… more than cooperative. My men and I are quite good at getting the answers we need.

“I’ll leave you to think that over, while we wait for the other two to wake up from their naps.”

 

* * *

 

Jason’s head was pounding, and the bullet wound in his leg was throbbing, but he kept his eyes closed, and his body slack as he listened to the man’s ‘master plan’, struggling to keep from struggling at the man’s barely-veiled threat of rape to Babs.

_Think, Jason!_

He almost squeezed his eyes shut, remembering only just that he was faking being unconscious as he ran through the list of positive and negative aspects to the situation.

Positive: These assholes had no idea that they had just screwed with the worst possible family; if their leader was impressed by what he and Dick had done, half-asleep, and taken by surprise, he was in for a rude surprise when they got free.

Negative: They had to be careful not to be too good; as the sons of a multi-billionaire, they’d be expected to have self-defense training. It could even be stretched to basic mastery of a martial arts style. But the family’s penchant for nothing short of perfection worked against them, as all three boys were easily masters of two or three different styles that they had learned -over the yeas -to blend together seamlessly into their own particular styles -something that billionaire playboys simply wouldn’t do.

Positive: They were definitely discounting what Babs could do; all three boys had trained with her enough to know that, even wheelchair-bound as she was, she was capable of putting up a hell of a fight from said chair.

Negative: Barbara Gordon had absolutely no use to these assholes, and they’d torture her first to get the boys to give up information, harming a target that they thought wouldn’t have any serious repercussions. They’d kill her just as easily if they thought she’d outlived her value.

Positive: The bullet had passed straight through his thigh, and was -for the most part -a flesh wound that wouldn’t impair his mobility too much, and the bleeding was already slowing down.

Negative: He was pretty sure he had a concussion, and from his light-headedness, he had probably lost enough blood to make him wobbly on his feet.

Positive: Tim was definitely up and -as much as possible -moving. From the sounds of it, he was going to be the least impaired of any of them.

Negative: Dick, whose foot was pressed up against Jason’s leg, hadn’t responded at all to any of Jason’s subtle attempts at communicating.

Positive: As isolated as they were, they could easily kill these men, and no one would be the wiser for it, meaning there was the possibility of going all out Bat Family on these douchebags.

Negative: All the Bat Family minus the Big Man was there, meaning that none of them would allow Red Hood to straight up murder-hobo these assholes.

Although, he thought darkly, if they so much as laid a hand on Babs… Even the Big Man himself wouldn’t be able to stop him from ripping these men to pieces one by one.


End file.
